Thank You, Ten
by SlinkyT
Summary: "Closet in ten," she said simply and he replied with a smirk and a, "Thank you, ten." Using one of his favorite theatre phrases before she made a show of walking off and swinging her hips a  little more than usual.


AN: This is something I've hoped somebody else would write for a while now, but it wasn't written. I'm not very good at this kind of stuff,and this is my first legitimate attempt, but it subsided my Cherry heart for a while, so I thought I would put it out for all to see if you guys like it. :)

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><p>One of the few sounds filling the tight enclosed space was clothes rubbing together, the material of a plaid skirt and jeans brushing past each other as they attempted to pull themselves closer. The other sound was that of deep breaths, labored ones that took more effort than usual and the moist contact of lips to lips as well as lips to bare skin. The shelf dug into the small of her back, her head lowering as his lips pressed to hers with increasingly more pressure. Her hand tangled in his hair, pulling him closer.<p>

One of his hands appreciated every inch he could reach, from dipping waist to hip, to swell of breast, to stomach. These moments always varied but were equally as satisfying every time. His other hand was under her skirt, at this moment a single finger moving quickly to subside her craving that had spurred this afternoon.

Any other day she would have passed him while hand in bulky hand with…him. The guy who she claimed couldn't touch her just right, kiss her just right. The circumstances were different, though, as he had to write an essay for a class he was on the verge of failing. This was not a problem at all for the opposing male now occupying her time. She had walked past his chair, dragging her hand from shoulder blade to shoulder blade. She leaned down, pressing her chest to his shoulder and whispered in his ear, taking time to enunciate each consonant.

"Closet in ten," she said simply and he replied with a smirk and a, "Thank you, ten." Using one of his favorite theatre phrases before she made a show of walking off and swinging her hips a little more than usual. Those were always the words exchanged between them: A location, followed by the amount of time to wait before following. Usually it was two or three minutes, but now he understood her concern as somebody among the masses might notice their similar departure time.

And now, here they were, desperately completing this task after frantic kisses.

Her legs almost gave out under her as he added a second finger. She gripped his shirt desperately leaning forward and her mouth connecting with his clothed shoulder, teeth digging in as she let out a low moan. That was the usual: hide the moans, cover the groans. At that he smirked, although he knew he was going to have a problem returning to class seeing as he had been turned on since the moment he entered the closet. Her having abandoned the only small scrap of fabric that would have been a hindrance on the floor and looking at him with wide, needy eyes the moment the door closed.

He hooked his fingers with the quick pumping motion and she gasped, chest rising and falling at a laborious pace, him paying specific attention to her breasts that would near his chest and then fall with each breath. She bucked her hips forward desperately to meet his hand, it not being nearly enough, but it was as much as she was comfortable with and the only thing that was really acceptable in this space. If this even counted as acceptable.

It was times like these that she wanted him more than ever, that if he were to offer more than a hand, she would have gladly accepted it, but he was considerate and patient and wouldn't dare do such a thing when she was at her weakest and most exposed.

She reached a hand back behind her, leaving his shirt temporarily and used the shelf as leverage. She lifted her hips up with a push of her palm, rocking to her toes and then moved back down with more force, that familiar sensation that only he caused radiating in the pit of her stomach. Her muscles were tightening, legs shaking and toes curling in her flats. She pulled at his neck again lips crashing together as she came crashing down around his fingers, body exhausted. Her breath still came quick and short as she thrashed against the shelves, internally conflicted with her wants of more and her body saying that she'd had enough. She grabbed his shirt once more, keeping her forehead pressed to her's as she tried to focus. She whimpered softly as he removed his hand from under her skirt and her hips ground against the air, just barely reaching his hips and missing that contact but knowing it couldn't last any longer.

She reached her hands down to the waist of his pants, finding her way to the button and undoing it before he realized what was going on. He placed his hands on her's and moved them, buttoning his pants back. "No time," he murmured simply. She eyed the apparent bulge in his pants with worry and looked up at him with sad eyes because she couldn't return the favor. "I'll be fine. Promise," he assured her and lifted her hands to his lips, giving them a short kiss.

"You're so beautiful," he commented randomly, just feeling that it needed to be voiced. He placed still, soothing kisses on her neck as she ran a hand over the firm muscles of his back and up to his hair, making slow lazy patterns against his scalp. There was shuffling of cleaning equipment, and the cleaning up of themselves. She put the underwear that had been so hastily thrown on the floor back on, despite sanitary reasons, just knowing she would have to leave soon. Immediately they were reattached, harms around each other and small random kisses being placd as the clocked ticked down to their inevitable separation. A thought popped into her head.

"I'm going to have to tell him sometime," she said softly and he denied it, shaking his head. There was no reason he ever had to know. "He's wondering why I don't let him touch me," she whispered and she as anticipated his back stiffened and the kisses he had just placed on her neck ceased.

"What have you let him do?" He asked, voice broken. He should have known things were bound to happen, he was her boyfriend after all. He was just the guy willing to meet her in the closet. The guy that actually made her happy. They guy that originally showed her about how could he could make her feel, physically and emotionally. Nothing important, really. She grabbed his wrists and looked down, trying to recall what she allowed her boyfriend to do, not that it was worth remembering.

"Here," she said softly and placed a hand just under her breast on her side, mostly on her stomach. "And here," she said and pushed his other hand down to her thigh, just under the hem of her skirt. He nodded, it wasn't much at all, but it still hurt to know that he was sharing part of her with such a dumb ass. Or as she liked to put it, "sweet but dense."

"I promise that it's nothing like this. Look at me," she said firmly and he met her eyes. "It's nothing like you," she assured him, pushing some of his hair back as his hands stayed in place. He let his thumbs rub slowly against her where she put his hands.

"What are you going to let him do?" He asked and she was more hesitant this time with her moving of his hands. She lifted her shirt up slightly, just enough for her to place his hand under it and guide it up to palming her breast fully, only bra in the way. She bit back a noise at the contact before grabbing his other wrist and pulling that hand up her thigh until it was palming her ass as well.

He nodded, knowing without her speaking that she wouldn't enjoy it if those were different hands, the sadness in her eyes telling him that. He pulled his hands back from her body and took her hands in his. "When are you going to break up with him?" She swallowed a knot that developed in her throat.

"Soon," she mumbled. "I promise. Then, I'm all yours." She assured him. "I'm already all yours, I just have to wait for the right time." He nodded again and squeezed her hands gently and just after that he heard the bell ring, echoing through the halls.

"We need to get to class," he said, stating the obvious. She released his hands, smoothing own her skirt and patting his hair in place from her numerous times of causing it to go awry. The usual time was five minutes to wait until they entered the hall, that being enough time for a different crowd to be in the hallway for each of their exits.

She opened the door and as she did he rushed over to her, catching her before the halls were flooded. "Hey, Rach?" he asked softly and her eyes flickered back to him in the shadows of the closet. "I love you," he stated with ease the phrase that had been murmured multiple times between moans and when they were simply talking. She smiled widely and looked around, seeing nobody in the halls yet, she leaned forward to kiss him quickly before replying.

"I love you too, Mike."


End file.
